Changes
by fuzzydream
Summary: War brings changes and some of them aren't unwelcome. Set after 1.07.


**A/N:** This was prompted to me by an anon on Tumblr and I thought it'd be worth posting here. I had never really thought much in advance about this moment in their relationship so it was a different thing to write about; I'm still not sure if I did it justice, since it's such an important thing to happen, but here's my little attempt. Any feedback is very much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Downton Abbey.

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_Changes_

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Anna felt a pang in her chest when she saw him bringing his Lordship's war uniform down just before tea time. She wasn't sure if it was the summer weather or the sight of something that represented war – something so cruel, so pointless, so unpredictable – but she was suddenly feeling extremely hot, and not in a good way. The air felt a bit agonising and her hands started sweating as she mended one of Lady Edith's bags.

Mr. Bates put the uniform on the table and sat beside her, in his usual place. The usually familiar feeling of security that flowed through her when they were sat side by side didn't come this time; she managed to smile weakly at him, and she noticed that his smile back didn't reach his eyes. So she wasn't the only one who worried.

Of course, everyone was worried. The world was changing. War news shocked everyone, even them who knew it was coming. To prepare for a war, for the unknown, was such a difficult thing to do. The oldest knew what to expect, and yet didn't at the same time – none really thought the idea of a war to be a good one. The youngest were eager – eager to make a difference, to show patriotism, to be worthy of fighting for their country. It was still the one topic during meals in the servants' hall; every now and then it migrated to Gwen's leaving in a few weeks, or Mrs. Hughes already looking for a new maid and Mr. Carson interviewing footmen – both with no luck so far, though it still was so very early. To Anna, it brought a rather dreadful feeling. She tried to be positive and believe in what people said – that it would be over by Christmas – but she found it hard to believe, when she herself was an avid newspaper reader and knew a lot about what was going on. She and Mr. Bates had been discussing Germany's situation for months now, and they had each reached their own opinion over matters. It did not look good – and it had never looked worse than it did now.

Even now, just a few days after the announcement, they were feeling the first consequences of war, in the Abbey: Thomas would be going in just a few weeks, to join the war effort with the hospital, and several other workers in the village and around Downton were enlisting. And though all of these facts worried Anna, she had maintained herself positive; none of the hall boys seemed to be going as of now, and except from Thomas no close person to her seemed to want to join the war effort. It was selfish of her, really, but in this one situation Anna didn't mind being selfish. She did not want to lose friends. She had no male family members to worry about and the closest thing she had to a brother was William – who, though eager to make a difference, wouldn't leave the Abbey so soon after his mother's passing, to not go against his father's best wishes.

Her concern, however, lay with Mr. Bates. Some might laugh at this, of course; how would Mr. Bates, an older man with a limp, go off to war? He wouldn't, not when so many young men were available.

It didn't stop Anna from worrying, though; his Lordship would go to London in the next morning for some sort of war meeting – old army comrades – and Mr. Bates would of course accompany him as his valet. Anna's mind was unstoppable at all the possibilities that this might bring. Again, she tried to keep the question of age and physical condition to the front of her mind – and again, her mind wandered elsewhere. It wasn't reasonable and she knew it, but who said matters of the heart were reasonable anyway?

"Is that his Lordship's uniform, Mr. Bates?" Daisy's voice reached Anna's ears and she chanced a look at Mr. Bates.

"It is, Daisy," he answered her patiently. Anna noticed he looked tired – or perhaps worried.

"Will his Lordship go off to war?"

"Don't be silly, Daisy," Thomas interrupted snarkly, "A man like his Lordship won't go off to the fields to fight war. He's not like the rest of us."

"But he fought before," Daisy insisted, "with Mr. Bates. Do you think he might fight again, Mr. Bates?"

"It's not very simple, Daisy," Mr. Bates' tone was narrow but gentle. "It depends on many different factors."

"But if he goes," Daisy started again, "would you go with 'im?"

Daisy's inquisitive tone annoyed Anna mildly; she could sense a few gazes on her, but she kept hers on her mending. She heard a bit of snickering – it bothered her. Mr. Bates took his time answering – everyone seemed to be awaiting for his reply. Anna found herself not breathing.

"If his Lordship wanted me to and the army approved," Mr. Bates said quietly, "I'd go with him, yes."

Time seemed to freeze for a moment, and someone said something about enlisting and how it worked; conversation moved onto a different, safer topic within that one, but Mr. Bates remained silent, as did Anna; so there was a possibility that he could go. Perhaps a small one, but it worried him all the same. They continued working side by side, taking sips of their tea until the dressing gong was heard, when they both stood up to see to their duties. Anna knew they needed to talk about it – he probably knew it too.

The breath she let out later wasn't a peaceful one.

—-

Anna found him in the courtyard, after dinner. It was funny, really, that they had managed to communicate without so much as exchanging a look. He was sitting by the crates, his cane leaning against them precariously; he looked distraught. He was looking up to the sky; it was a very clear night, and Anna briefly thought they could use some rain – perhaps it would stop the dry weather for a bit. Unusual, even for summer, but she was sure it'd be over soon.

Her steps were tentative towards him, and for a moment she wondered what would she say – plead him to not go? Ask him to never go off to war again? She knew him well enough to know not to ask these questions – and she knew their relationship well enough to know she wasn't in any place to say such a thing. He wasn't hers, even though she was his. She was his, even though he didn't want her to be. What a situation, Anna thought to herself before she quietly came to a stop in front of him.

Mr. Bates smiled softly at her. She replied with one of her own and sat beside him.

She didn't know how long they stayed there without saying a word, but it felt like an eternity to her – an eternity she couldn't afford, not when she needed to go back to clean the table from the upstairs dinner very soon. She was speaking before she even realised it.

"Would you really go with Lord Grantham if he had to go to war? After everything you went through?"

Anna was sure this wasn't what he had expected to hear and she saw a cloud in his eyes before he considered answering it. He looked down, averting his gaze from the stars.

"I know enough of war to know that I don't want to go, though a foolish, naive part of me still relishes in the feeling of serving my country," his voice was quiet. "But I know enough of the army to be almost certain that I won't go."

Anna felt her heart skip a beat as she heard his words; so he wouldn't go. He didn't really think he would go.

"I got injured and I went to prison," he continued, "without mentioning the fact that my age is hardly considered the best one for war. I daresay with certainty that I won't be a part of this war."

Her breath itched. "No?"

Mr. Bates shook his head. "And I doubt Lord Grantham will go either. We fought a long time ago. They will want younger men."

She shook her head, trying to get away from the emotion that seemed to be consuming her now. She had never realised how much she had worried over this for the past week – it had always been a shadow over her head, her last thought before going to bed and the first when she woke up. The uncertainty of war brought with it the uncertainty of his presence beside her, and what a comforting feeling it was that he thought, with so much _certainty_, of all things, that he wouldn't go away to war – that he wouldn't be away from her.

He wasn't hers to be taken from, and yet that was exactly what translated the dreading feeling that had consumed her lately. He wasn't hers, but she felt like he was.

A whimper escaped her throat, though she wasn't crying. All at once, she caught herself. She felt warm again, this time with relief. She stood up. He wouldn't be going away from her – he wouldn't be going to another country and he wouldn't be fighting other men and he wouldn't be _killed_…

"I'm sorry," she heard herself saying. One of her hands held her stomach, as if to control her sobs. "I just… I'm really happy to know that… that you're not going away."

He remained sat, a small smile crossing his features, though he seemed mildly worried about her.

"I am, too," he said at last. "I do not wish to go away."

She smiled then, brightly and carelessly, and for a moment she thought about walking towards him and kissing his lips – had it been so long since they almost did that, in this very same courtyard? A shadow crossed her eyes, though; he wasn't hers. He was still married. He didn't know where his wife was. He might not belong to her physically – but legally, he was. And that was more than any connection Anna could hope for.

But did it matter, really? The world was changing – everyone was saying so. New horizons were opening up. Perhaps there would be a chance for the two of them – there definitely should be a chance for the two of them somewhere, somehow, sometime; and perhaps, right now, in this very moment, being bound to someone – legally or physically, it didn't matter, not to Anna. She loved him, and she wanted him to know that, always – even if he was just going on a trip to London, even if the war would never come to break them. Because if she had him, she could face anything else.

In a spur of a moment, she brought up the subject – the one they hadn't talked about in so long. The one subject they seemed to avoid at any costs.

And suddenly, Anna did not care.

"I know that this is inappropriate of me, Mr. Bates," Anna started, "but surely you know how I feel about you and I couldn't help but be worried over what this war might bring. I simply cannot bear the thought of you being away. Not in a war and nor anywhere else."

His smile disappeared; he hadn't been expecting this.

"Anna…"

"I am well aware that we don't talk about this," she interrupted him before he could say anything else, "but I need you to know it. That no matter where you are, I'll be thinking of you. And even if there's a small, minimal chance that you might go to war…"

"It's a very small chance, Anna," he said slowly, standing up. He seemed rather impatient.

Anna didn't mind. She took a deep breath and turned to face him completely, not wanting to let him go now.

"It's been over a year and I do not regret it," she said softly, "I've tried to let it go but I do not want to, not a bit. I love you, Mr. Bates. And I _know_ you. And I love you. I don't want this war to go on without making myself very clear."

A ghost of a smile appeared in his features. "You certainly have no problem in making yourself clear, Anna."

She had to chuckle at his words. "If only you could hear them as clearly as I speak."

He walked towards her. His cane lay forgotten by the crate. "I do hear them, Anna. And I appreciate them ever so much. But you do know this cannot be."

"Is that what you'll say to convince me to change my feelings?" she asked, taking his hand. The contact made her shiver. "Because it won't work. Do you expect me to believe you if you say that we cannot be? Because we can. One day, we'll manage it. One day, the obstacles will be smaller and I'll still be here. I'm willing to wait because… because I love you, with all my heart and soul. I know you, and I know your past and your quirks and your mind and I still love you. And I think you love me too."

His hand was caressing hers. They had done this before. His breath was mingling hers. She could feel his warmth from their close proximity; a thrill invaded her. It couldn't be; would it really happen? He was leaning down towards her – his eyes were gentle. Emotion was caught in her throat. Would they be interrupted? She closed her eyes.

And felt his warm lips against hers all at once; a somewhat electric feeling ran through her and she leaned more into him, trying to stand on her tiptoes. His lips were warm and soft, oh so soft, and yet strong against hers. His free hand touched her back and pushed her closer to him. She let out a sigh, letting go of herself into the kiss, and felt his tongue tentative in her mouth, trying and teasing and feeling so, so wonderful; she grasped his shoulders for support. It was slow and gentle and soft, and he tasted of the tea she had prepared for him in the servants' hall after dinner, and of himself – and oh, how she could get used to the taste of him.

They pulled away seconds later, or perhaps it was merely sunny days later – for Anna it did not matter. She still had her eyes closed when they parted, and she wasn't willing to let go of him yet. She snuggled into him, taking in his scent with a deep breath, and resting her head against his shoulder. They had not been interrupted this time.

She felt a light kiss on her temple. It was not awkward – she could have been content in staying in his arms forever. They had not been interrupted.

He was the one who spoke first, and his voice was quieter than ever before.

"You're right, of course," he said softly, and she opened her eyes alarmingly. "I love you too."

He was hers.

And it seemed like the world was, indeed, changing.


End file.
